Presents
by Sa Satin Amoureux
Summary: Five Christmases. Five presents. Five life-changing moments.
1. Present For Long Ago

**DISCLAIMER: **I'm looking in my stocking – there are no rights in here. Oh well. Maybe next year.

Presents

Present For Long Ago

Nellie is shyer than usual, standing next to Ben in the pews. It's the first time she's wore a fancy dress in front of him, and the first time she's seen him in a suit.

She doesn't usually go to church, not even on Christmas, since her dad usually brought her back to his house in Liverpool for the holidays. However, she never refuses an invitation from Ben, especially since stupid Lucy had started to make her move on him.

Nellie smiles, knowing she needs to eliminate Lucy as soon as possible. Ben had always been into blondes, with Nellie as the only exception.

"This is a good part," Ben mumbles, startling Nellie out of her plans of murder, "The Magi are really neat to look at."

"Neat?" Nellie repeats, giving him one of her patented eyebrow raises, "Ben, ya could've said anythin', and ya pick neat?"

Ben slaps the back of her hand gently. "Just because you have the mouth of a bloody sailor." He snaps, looking away.

She giggles into his ear; her breath makes him squirm, "See, 'bloody' isn't so 'ard to say, is it?"

"Quiet down!" The widow behind them snaps loudly, interrupting the naivety play.

They both laugh until the end of the play, where Ben pulls Nellie outside amongst the confusion.

They sit in the abandoned alley, one of the few areas clear of snow, still laughing softly. The sun is emerging, and the soft light reflects off the snow and made London look like a wonderland.

"Nellie," Ben says, "I got you a present."

She smiles at him and leans her head against the wall. "Oh, you didn't 'ave to do that."

"I wanted to," he whispers, reaching into his pocket. He pulls out a black and red locket, with a silver chain and trimmings, "Here."

"Oh, Ben," she murmurs, grabbing the locket, making sure their fingers touch, "It's beautiful."

He smiles, obviously pleased. "Can I put it on for you?"

Nellie nods, and Ben's hands play gently on her neck, fumbling with the clasp. "I hope you like it," he jabbers, "I mean, I got it really cheap, but I know you like red, and I thought it suited you, and-"

"Shut up, Ben," she cuts in, "I love it. It's bloody beautiful."

"Good," he sighs, "Want to know what I got Lucy?"

"What?" She gasps, her heart falling. He pays no attention to her, rambling on about how 'amazing' Lucy was, and how he felt about her, and how he loves her, and the 'very expensive' earrings he got her, and other pointless facts.

"I don't think Lucy is a good person for you!" She yells, startling Ben out of his lecture.

He asks why.

'_Isn't obvious?' _she thinks, _'I love you.'_

He leaves, confused and angry, but she keeps the locket on.

She'll still be wearing the locket twenty-five years later, when Ben will be challenging the honesty of a faux Italian barber, and her feelings will be the same.


	2. Present For the Recent Past

Presents

Present For the Recent Past

"Oh, Ben!" Lucy cries, wrapping her arms around her husband's neck, "I love it. It's beautiful!"

Nellie remembers when she said the almost exact same words to him, eons ago. She still wears his present, but the heavily pregnant blonde distracts him so much, he barely remembers Nellie.

"I'm glad you like it," he replies, kissing her cheek, "I thought it suited you."

Obviously, Ben cannot think up original material.

Albert watches their display with a look of longing obscuring his features, making the guilt Nellie feels intensify. Albert is a good man, he deserves a wife who loves him; and he just has Nellie, a woman obsessed with the barber living upstairs, who in turn is infatuated with his wife.

It's worse than a bloody Shakespeare play.

The day is ending; Nellie just has to distribute the last of her presents. "Lucy," she says sweetly, smiling so hard her face tarts to cramp, "I got ya this."

Lucy pulls the present apart slowly, and she squeals with delight, "Oh Nellie, it's wonderful! I'll use it every day!"

'_It's just a comb.' _Nellie thinks sourly, rolling her eyes. She knows the blonde is kind, bright, and beautiful, but all Nellie can see is an ignorant whore who took the life Nellie deserves away from her.

"I'm glad ya like it," Nellie replies, "An' Ben..."

She holds a finely wrapped box in her hand, teasing the man. She knows that Ben hates surprises and waiting – he always has to be doing something. Pacing or what not.

Nellie loves subtly flirting with Benjamin. He has no idea what's going on, bless his heart. Albert, on the other hand, narrows his eyes and nods at Nellie, signalling her to stop.

"I just got you som'thin' to 'hold your razors with," she mumbles, subdued, "You know my brother, he's good with 'is 'ands."

Ben nods heartily, paper flying everywhere, (some hitting Lucy in the face, Nellie's pleased to note), and holds the leather holster tenderly, stroking the material. Nellie struggles to contain herself as she notices how seductive the movement is.

"This is great, Eleanor," he exclaims. Nellie feels her heart sink because of the use of her formal name; it makes her feel as if they are both familiar strangers, "I love your brother's work."

She smiles weakly, and he beams back at her. His smile, full of innocence and joy, makes Nellie's sunken heart flutter.

They maintain eye contact, his dark mahogany eyes focused on her light brown ones. His eyes were superior to hers; his were full of wisdom and compassion, whereas hers matched the colour of the Thames in the height of summer – not a good comparison.

Lucy coughs awkwardly, daintily and Albert grabs Nellie's shoulder. "Well," Albert announces in his monotone voice, "It's getting late, hmm?"

They say their goodnights, thanking each other for the presents, and Ben helps Lucy up the stairs. They retreat to their bedrooms, and Albert positions himself over Nellie.

She dreams of something more.


	3. Present For Yesterday

Presents

Present For Yesterday

"Benjamin Barker." The Judge spits, looking disdainfully at the emaciated Ben in the holding cell, "I see you're still alive."

Ben stares up at him in disgust, anger like he has never felt before flowing through his body. He used to be a peaceful man, but the month in prison has been too much for him. He feels like he'll hurt, no, _kill_ anyone, especially Turpin, to get back to Lucy and Johanna.

He shudders to think what will happen to him if he spends any longer in this hellhole.

"I'm not dying until I get out of here, Turpin," he retorts, flicking some soil at the immaculately dressed Judge, "I'm getting out of here."

The Judge brushes the dirt off, smiling nastily. "You know today is Christmas, eh, Barker?" he says, chewing on each word before coughing it out, "And I'm just a regular Father Christmas. You're getting out of here. Tomorrow, actually. You'll get to see your precious family again."

Shock hits Ben suddenly – was this place driving him insane, too?

The Judge leans closer to the bars, still sneering unpleasantly. "Yes, tomorrow you will be put on a boat to Australia, where you'll spend the rest of your life. Your wife and daughter will be there to see you off, don't worry."

"No," Ben yells, hurling himself at the bars, "No!"

The Judge steps away, his smile turning into a snarl of hatred and disgust. Ben feels terror at the look in the other man's eyes. Turpin is a man used to getting what he wants, and he is a man not afraid to do whatever it takes to make sure he gets it.

Ben is just starting to realize it.

"Yes, barber," Turpin growls, the malice evident in every word, "You're as good as dead. And you know what I'm going to do with your wife? YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO WITH YOUR WIFE!"

"Don't touch her!" Ben cries, fear and sadness for Lucy filling his soul, "Stay away from her!"

Turpin just smiles pleasantly again, and starts heading for the exit. "Merry Christmas, barber!" he yells, laughing evilly as he leaves.

Ben slumps against the wall, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes. He was never going to see his daughter grow up. He was never going to be able to hold his wife again. He would never be able fight jokingly with Nellie again...

He hadn't thought of Nellie much since he got in here. The redhead was his best friend - she had been for years - but his family is more important. Already Nellie is fading from his mind, as he pictures Lucy holding Johanna.

Hatred grows inside Ben as he thinks of Turpin and his plans about what he wants to do with Lucy. The tears are gone; he stands up and stares at the wall.

"I'LL KILL YOU!" he screams, all his repressed emotions escaping, "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU HEAR!"

He continues to scream.

Worst. Christmas. Ever.


	4. Present For Today

Presents

Present For Today

Sweeney stands at the window, glaring at the world outside. The happy attitude, the good will towards your fellow men, the sickening joy – it's enough to make him want to run outside and kill everybody.

Well, the urge is stronger than usual.

Even worse, the bloody landlady and her urchin seem to love the stupid holiday.

Benjamin and Lucy used to love Christmas, he remembers. Especially Lucy. She was filled with light, beautiful light, as the cold winter flew by. Now, to celebrate Christmas without her, Sweeney feels like he's betraying her memory.

Hell, just being alive makes him feel like a traitor.

"Merry Christmas, love!" the woman, the shrew, the nag, _Mrs. Lovett_, cries while she storms into his room, unannounced, of course, letting the snow and cheery attitude in.

He ignores her, following the snowflakes outside with his eyes. He wonders if a snowflake split in half, would it bleed, or just continue to fall.

She walks up to him, rocking excitedly. Sweeney rolls his eyes in contempt, questioning how long he had to ignore her before she would leave him to his brooding.

The razor slides out, and he marvels at how the snow-tinted light reflects off the silver blade.

She leans closer towards him, her expression one of euphoric success. "I brought ya a present," she says, smiling even wider.

Sweeney continues to ignore her, but the poorly wrapped gift catches his attention. "If I open it, will you leave me alone?" He growls, snatching the present from her hands.

"I get to watch ya open it," she retorts saucily, "an' you 'ave to tell me what ya think."

He doesn't reply; he's too busy tearing the paper off. His sudden interest surprises the both of them, though neither admit it.

The present reveals itself – a portrait of Johanna, Lucy, and him, from almost sixteen years ago. He remembers the shot, it was shortly after Johanna had been born, and Lucy wanted the memory preserved.

Sweeney's amazed the picture still exists.

"Mrs. Lovett," he asks, "where did you find this?"

She shrugs, seemingly uncaring, but she's focusing intently on the unsheathed razor in his hand, "Oh, I was just putterin' about downstairs, an' I found a bunch of old things. Mostly Albert's stuff, see, but I found that an' thought you'd appreciate it."

He's dumbstruck by the picture. A multitude of emotions is tearing him apart inside. Remorse, for one, as the memories of his wife and daughter batter him; it hurts so much more because Sweeney knows he'll never see either of them again. Anger towards the Judge, who had the nerve to tear Ben's life apart. And gratitude towards the baker, for reminding him of the good parts of his past.

"Thank you," he says, looking at the baker, re-evaluating her, "I can't think of anything else I'd want."

"Do you like it?" she whispers.

"I love it, Lovett." Sweeney jokes, a rare smile forming.

It becomes their joke during their _special_ nights together.


	5. Present For the Future

Presents

Present For The Future

Nellie walks into the kitchen on Christmas morning, clutching the note Sweeney left her on the bed. He wants to meet her in the kitchen for 'a surprise.'

Sweeney stands by the counter, a human heart in his outstretched hands. He looks like a child, wanting to show his mother whatever he had found. But Sweeney is _not_ her child. She's used to his morbid antics, but this seems a little crazed.

"I wanted to give you my heart, but as I figured that might be a bit of an inconvenience to myself," he smiles at her sickened expression, "I decided to improvise, and I brought you someone else's instead."

His hands are dripping with blood, but inside the heart, something shines.

"Grab it." Sweeney orders, shoving the heart closer towards her, "Quickly, this is disgusting."

Nellie reaches in, grimacing at her contact with the dead flesh. She grabs the shine, and is pleasantly surprised when she pulls out a ring.

"Are you serious?" Nellie gasps, examining the stunning, albeit bloody, ring. It was just a simple silver band, no diamonds or any other frivolities, but then again, Sweeney was the kind of man who cut straight to the matter of things.

"When am I ever not?" he smiles slightly, laying the heart on the counter, "But do I really need to ask?" He gets down on one knee and smiles pleasantly.

She nods furiously, her hands shaking. It amuses Sweeney to see her answer, her face torn between adoration and shock.

"I need to sit down," she whispers, grinning and heading towards the parlour, patting Sweeney gently on the shoulder as she passes.

He gets up, brushing flour off his knees, "Take as long as you need, pet."

His heart fills with content watching her ecstatic reaction – until he remembers the mess he left in the parlour.

A sudden shriek alerts Sweeney to the fact Nellie had just found where the heart had come from.

"Sweeney!" She yells, bolting back into the kitchen to admonish him, "'ow could you do som'thin' like that to Toby!"

He grins, admiring how the light reflects off her ring. And her eyes. He always marvels at the colour; light brown, not the dark dreary brown-red of his own.

She strikes him on the shoulder, her exquisite eyes watering up, "You-you 'ad no right! 'e was just a lad! 'e-"

Sweeney leans his head down and kisses her gently. She starts to push him away; then changes her mind. Nellie falls against him and drapes her arm around his shoulder.

The invasion of his personal space had annoyed him greatly before, but know he must say he thoroughly enjoys it. He pulls away for a minute to look at her. She has temporarily forgotten the anger, and she looks dazed, giddy even.

"I'll make it up to you, pet," he whispers softly, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her even closer, "I promise."

She looks up at him, and they both smile.

**

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A.N. Each of the five chapters is exactly 500 words long, not counting the title or anything, and 500x5 is 2500, and today is the 25th. But the fanfiction word counter is slightly messed up, so that's why the number of words is wrong.

Pure Nights-style fluff. I know, Sweeney was very out of character. Oh well, it doesn't matter I enjoyed writing this. So, if you bothered yourself to take time to read this, make sure you have safe and happy holiday! :)


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